Young Love
by elleisforlovee
Summary: A rewrite of several incidents that occurred in Downton Series 4, Episode 8. With all of the parallels drawn between Jack x Rose and Sybil x Tom, how could I not revisit this story line in an AU world?


**A/N:** As I said on tumblr, this story is a response to the quiet rage I was plagued with while watching this past week's episode of Downton. On it, the parallel between Sybil/Tom and Jack/Rose was so clearly drawn, and yet nothing was done with it. Fellowes, as per usual, dropped the ball. He could have used Sybil and Tom's story to show Rose the error of her ways, but instead, he ignored it and in doing so, dismissed all similarities thus making it even more ridiculous. But I can't let it go so here's how it should have been handled…

* * *

"For the young lovers  
Taking the hill  
One plants a flag  
While the other is killed  
When the wine pours  
We raise our cups  
Young love is sacrifice  
Young love is tough  
Young love is innocent  
Young love is us..."  
-_Young Love_, Gavin DeGraw

* * *

Sometimes it seemed that the walk from the front door of Downton all the way up to the bedroom he shared with his wife took far too long. It was something Tom always cherished when he was still a chauffeur, how soon after ending a shift, he could take just a few steps from the car into his cottage at the back of the garage. Here, and he first noticed this on his visit back with Sybil, the walk from the front door of the estate all the way up to Sybil's old bedroom, was a production. His hat was first taken by a housemaid and sometimes he even shrugged out of his jacket. On the way up the stairs, he walked slowly, careful not to cause the wood beneath his feet to creak and essentially upset the balance of the home, one he had not yet been able to call his own, though it seemed that is what it would be for the next couple of years.

At the top of the stairs, he took a right and began counting all of the doors on his left until he found the room he shared with Sybil. He never asked her why her bedroom was so far separated from the others. Edith and Mary, the two always tense with one another, had rooms right across the hall from each other, with their parents only a few doors down. Sybil seemed to be placed off in a back corner, and as he turned the brass doorknob in hopes of entering, Tom made a mental note to ask her why that was.

On the large, four post bed in the center of the room, Sybil leaned up against the pillows, watching as Madeline stacked blocks, before swinging her arm, knocking them all down.

In hearing her father enter the room, the child looked to him, her eyes growing wide as she extended her arms, silently asking to be picked up.

"Is that your Da?" Sybil asked, brushing back Madeline's curls. They were kept back by a simple blue ribbon but it seemed that much like her own hair, they'd never truly be tamed.

"Ahhh," Tom let out, walking to Madeline to scoop her up in his arms. "There's my girl. Did you and Ma have a good morning?"

Madeline did not move except to touch Tom's face before beginning to play with the loop of his necktie.

"Hi, darling," Tom said, now leaning across the bed to kiss Sybil. Happily, his wife obliged and the kiss left them both smiling, happy to be in one another's presence again.

"How was Thirsk?" Sybil asked. She watched as Tom allowed their daughter to sit on his lap, essentially using him as a toy, while she poked at his dress shirt and pulled at his tie.

Tom tilted his head. "Ehhh."

In studying her husband, Sybil's brows furrowed. "What's that look?"

"What look?" Tom countered.

"That look," Sybil nodded. "Talk to me…"

Tom sighed and moved Madeline off of him. He put the child onto the ground, knowing that it was her favorite to be able to crawl around and explore. Just last week she had taken a few steps, but she still felt most comfortable on all fours, touching nearly everything in sight.

"I saw something."

Sybil smirked. "And?"

"It's not my place, necessarily."

"Stop that," she dismissed. "What did you see?"

"Rose was in Thirsk as well."

"Shopping, yes."

"Not shopping," Tom returned quickly. "She was with a man."

"Oh god. Who was it?"

"Jack Ross. The jazz singer."

Sybil's mouth dropped open as her mind did its best to formulate a coherent thought. Until then, and fully in jest, she said: "Scandalous" which only worked to cause Tom to falter, his gaze falling to the plush comforter of their bed, no longer able to meet his wife's glance.

"Well that's what you want me to say, right? I won't. She's almost twenty! And more of a rebel than I ever was…"

"You weren't ever a rebel, love."

"In my family's eyes, I was. I think I still am. I'm the Crawley girl all of them talk about, didn't you know?" Tom looked to her, smirked and then looked back down, causing Sybil to continue. "So what? Are they dating?"

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Well were they having lunch or necking on some park bench? There's degrees of severity with these things, Tom."

"Mary didn't seem to think so. You even talking to me was cause for a red flag."

"Well," Sybil said, now sitting up so she could stand up, "Mary knew when her little sister was in love. I actually think she somehow knew before I did."

Tom sat forward too and watched now as Sybil walked to her vanity. "What?"

"It was a conversation she had with me. I told you this," Sybil reminded. "And I just got to thinking about how angry I was. I mean, how dare she tell me who I should and shouldn't be talking to. And then I realized, why should I care, I mean, if we are friends?"

"But we weren't friends," Tom reminded, causing Sybil to turn on her bench and smirk at him.

"No, we most certainly were not." Sybil sighed and turned back to her vanity mirror. "So lunch or necking?"

Tom laughed and looked away. "Neither. She touched his cheek."

Sharply, Sybil inhaled and placed her hands to her cheeks in a dramatic display of shock. Tom rolled his eyes and Sybil stood, walking back to him now. In seeing her husband looking so defeated, Sybil softened, an action that was made easier as she took a seat upon his lap, his arms now holding her in the way they just held their daughter. "Do you think anything will come of it? Why are you telling me?"

"I don't know," Tom shrugged. "I just feel like someone should know."

Sybil narrowed her eyes at her husband. "You feel like someone should know? Why? Do you wish someone had known about us?"

Tom pushed Sybil off of him and stood up. "Stop it, Sybil! It's not the same thing!"

"Well isn't it? Rich aristocratic girl falls for a boy the world believes is unworthy of her love. This is the same exact thing, Tom!"

"That's the thing though, I don't think she is in love with him."

Sybil took a step back. "What makes you say that?"

"I just don't," he offered, his hands flailing in front of him, doing their best to make sense of it all. "He seemed put off by her."

Sybil laughed. "Why would he be put off by her?"

"Oh, you're right, because if a beautiful, wealthy girl loves a boy from a different part of town, we are automatically obligated to love them back. I love you because it is my obligation to the world and I worry what people will say, Sybil!"

"I thought this wasn't about us!" she threw back.

"It's not, but you're being ridiculous!"

Tom ran a hand through his hair and turned around. He was out of breath, and very much stressed out, but still his eyes traveled just as Sybil's did, watching as Madeline went to reach for one of the potted plants by the window.

"Madeline, no!" Sybil called out, rushing toward the child, but stopped by her husband's arms, picking the child up just in time.

Together, they coddled the little girl, her eyes wide and her spirit very much unaffected especially now with her mother and father so close. Their breathing settled, Tom looked to Sybil, and she looked away, returning her attention to Madeline in an attempt to deflect her husband's truce. With his free hand though, he angled his wife's chin upward, causing her to smile before leaning in and giving him a kiss.

The two only broke away when behind them, the door opened, revealing Mary, carrying George. "What is all the commotion in here?"

Sybil took Madeline and walked back to the vanity so the two could sit down. "Sorry. We had a bit of a disagreement."

"Yes, but in this house Sybil? You're lucky I'm the only one upstairs."

"She's right, Syb. We need to do a better job of planning our arguments."

Sybil looked down and giggled. All form of tension between her and Tom was lost now, replaced as the two metaphorically stood side by side, ready to face Mary as a team. Mary sighed, but continued to sway back and forth, rocking George on her hip to keep him calm.

"Actually, Mary…" Sybil began, but was stopped by Tom shooting her a look, begging that they discuss this first. Though no words were spoken, Sybil continued as if they had. "Oh, what? Is this too much like last time too?"

It was Tom's turn to sigh as he sat back, taking a seat in the chair by the fireplace.

Mary looked back and forth between Tom and Sybil. "What is it with you two that everything always has to be a huge secret? Even married and with a child and it's all still very hush hush!"

"Tom saw Rose with a gentleman today," Sybil explained.

"A gentleman?" Mary inquired. "Even in Yorkshire, I'm going to need you to clarify."

Tom smirked. "Jack Ross."

"A-ha," Mary said. "Well, I'm not surprised. She practically had her tongue down his throat the other night after dinner."

"Mary!" Sybil yelped.

"Well, she did. I walked downstairs to pay Mr. Ross and I just happened upon them."

Tom smirked and looked to Sybil. "Just like you happened upon us at one point in time?"

Mary blinked and continued to sway. "What?" she asked, clearly not comprehending the joke her brother in law and sister were currently in on.

"Nevermind…" Sybil began. "Or, actually, well…" Her voice trailed off; Mary was experienced in this area. "What do we do?"

Mary laughed. "You two realize how odd it is that it's you of all people wondering if we should tell someone, correct? You begged me not to tell, Papa, Sybil! Maybe, like I did with you, we should give her a chance to explain herself."

"Or, we could take the Robert Crawley approach and try and buy off the man."

Mary looked up to Tom. "What?"

Sybil sighed. "Papa tried to pay Tom to leave me be."

"He didn't!"

"He did," Sybil nodded.

"Ohhh, he is vile sometimes," Mary conceded. "Well, do we think she loves him?"

"Does it matter?" Tom tried.

Sybil nodded. "I think it does."

"Well why else would she be with him?" Mary asked.

"To upset her mother," Sybil returned all too quickly. "It's a form of rebellion. What better way to break your parent's hearts than to run off with a man of a different race? Around here, he might as well be from a completely different world."

"He is from a different world," Tom reminded, thinking then of his own upbringing and how it was very different from the one his daughter Madeline knew.

"Who says she's running off?" Mary tried quickly. "Is she running off?" Tom looked to Sybil, then back to Mary and shrugged. The eldest Crawley girl sighed. "I'll talk to Mr. Ross."

"Are you sure? Maybe we could send Tom, have them settle it all man to man…"

Tom looked to Sybil. "I don't know if that's the best idea, love."

"Why not?"

"What am I to say? If he tells me he loves her and wants to marry her, that'll be the end of it on my part. I can't argue that."

Sybil stood up and touched a palm to Tom's cheek. "No, I suppose you can't."

"Alright, well I need to get out of this house for a bit anyway, so maybe London will do the trick. Do you need anything?"

Sybil laughed, finding her sister's fascination with the material world to be forever amusing. "No, but thank you. Do you want us to take George?"

"Most certainly not. Matthew is waking up from his nap now. He can take him."

"He's been sick," Sybil reminded.

"He's been lazy," Mary corrected. "I carried this child for nine months through nausea and back pain. He can help a little bit…" She then turned back to the Branson family. "I will give that to you, Tom. You'd never put Madeline down if you didn't have to." Tom smirked in agreement. "Your kind is much better at that. Why do you think that is?"

"We don't have a choice," he offered up. No tint of offense or malice could be heard in his words. They were as honest and as true as anything he knew. "When you're poor you can't give your children nannies and nurseries so you give them kisses."

"Yes," Mary sighed. "Well let it be known that I wish to give my children nannies and nurseries _and_ kisses…"

Mary's voice trailed off as she headed for the door. She wore her signature Crawley grin, the one that had her lips pursed and her eyebrows held high. In her absence, Sybil and Tom returned their attention to Madeline, wondering if she understood the role she played in all of this.

~!~

Two days later and Mary had returned from London, doing so without giving Tom or Sybil an update on the situation between Jack and Rose. The two of them, though curious, found it convenient as both George and Madeline had come down with a cold in Mary's absence, giving Sybil more than enough to do with her sister out of town.

That night, with both children put to bed and a typical Downton dinner coming to a close, Mary used the walk toward the drawing room as an opportunity to pull both Sybil and Tom aside.

"I talked to Mr. Ross," Mary began quickly. "He proposed to her. They were engaged. Did you know this?"

Sybil looked to Tom and then back to her sister, both of them now shrugging in indifference.

After a dismissive sigh, Mary continued. "Well they're not anymore, though I'm not sure Rose is aware yet. It appears Mr. Ross had the same fears you two did, that this was all a ploy to upset Rose's mother."

"Was he upset?" Tom asked, thinking of the state of his own heart when once upon a time, a girl he loved very much went back on her word. Mary was none the wiser, but Sybil looked to her husband, her mouth dropping open in question as her hands fought the urge to reach out and touch his cheek.

"I don't think so. He actually looked relieved, if you'd believe it."

Behind them, Rose was skipping, receiving a stern glare from Carson as she headed for the trio. "Cousin Sybil!" she yelled, her voice sounding sweet and excited; her characteristic wide-eyed grin brightening her cheeks. "Do you have a moment? I was wondering if we could catch up. With Madeline, I feel like we never get the chance to just talk, you and I."

Sybil looked to Rose and smiled. "Of course. Excuse me," she said, now leaning up to kiss Tom's cheek. In receiving such an affection so openly, Tom smiled, trusting Sybil to take care of this as he and Mary took off for the drawing room.

With everyone off having tea, it was easy for Sybil and Rose to take a seat in the great room. Behind them, the fireplace still burned, slowly turning the logs on the hearth to ember.

Rose sat down, grabbing for Sybil's hands as she did so. Sybil, always enjoying Rose's company, though hating the parallels drawn between the two of them, smiled, wondering who this was going to be more difficult for.

"How is Madeline? I have to be honest, I haven't seen her much."

"Yes, well between Tom always working and me recovering, I'm afraid we've locked ourselves up in our room more than we ought to."

Rose raised her eyebrows, clearly missing what her cousin was getting at, or rather, creating her own version of the tale. "Well, you're married! You have that right!"

Sybil blushed and looked down. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Is it exciting? Being married?"

This time, Sybil didn't falter. "It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. And now with Madeline...I'm right where I need to be," Sybil confirmed. But then: "What about you?" she asked, wondering for once if Rose was going to tell the truth.

"Ohhhh!" Rose let out. "If I tell you, do you promise not to tell?"

"Go on."

"Jack has asked me to marry him."

"Jack? Jack Ross? The jazz singer?" Sybil clarified, as if she didn't already know.

Energetically, Rose nodded. "The very same one! Oh, cousin Sybil I am so very excited! I could barely sleep last night."

"So you've said yes?"

"Well of course I have!"

"So you love him?"

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Sybil sat forward. "Do you love him, Rose, or do you love the idea of him?"

Rose blinked, her eyes narrowing now as if to make sense of it all. "What ever do you mean?"

Sybil sighed. "When I was falling in love with Tom, I did so without any consideration for anyone else. Sure, after the shock of loving him set in, I thought of what my parents would think and how everyone would treat me, but my feelings were never based on that, do you understand? Because if they were, I'm afraid we wouldn't be where we are now…"

"But you love Tom!"

"Yes, Rose, I love Tom very, very much," she lamented. "I love him so much that it pains me sometimes. So that is why it is all worth it. I just worry that perhaps you don't love Jack all that much and if that's the case, I advise you to end things now before that poor man has his heart broken."

Rose's eyes began to burn as she fought back tears. She wasn't sad, but instead, incredibly angry. "I can make my own choices! Surely you understand that!"

"Rose, I understand that more than anyone in this house will. I'm just saying, I knew my own mind and now I'm asking you to acknowledge you know yours. Are you marrying him because you're in love with him or are you marrying him because you know what your mother will say?"

Rose said nothing, only looked away, her lips practically quivering as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

"Where will you live Rose? Certainly you can't live here."

"Tom lives here!"

"Oh, bite your tongue!" Sybil spat. "You don't get it! And I am so offended that you've tried to get me to support you on this. It is degrading to the love Tom and I share and the life we've worked to build."

"Now listen," Sybil softened, " If one day you fall in love with a boy, no matter who he is - black, white, purple, green...I will give you all my love and support, but I just know this is not that day. Maybe someday you will love Jack. Maybe you'll realize you're absolutely in love with him. But until it is your heart making these decisions and not your mind, I cannot and will not support you. You're asking him to give up a lot too, Rose! Do you know what they will do to him? This isn't a game!"

"I hadn't thought of that."

"No," Sybil sighed. "Of course you haven't."

"Please don't make me feel so small. I didn't mean to...well, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Rose," Sybil tried, reaching out now to graze her cousin's hand. "You must consider these things. So what, you've shocked your mother and then what? They hate you, my father forces you out...where will you go? Will his income support you? If you don't love him, what will you live on? Will the moment of bliss in breaking your mother's heart be worth the struggle thereafter?"

"Was it worth it for you?"

"Every single minute of it," Sybil assured with a voice so strong it finally pushed a tear out of Rose's eye, causing the droplet to slowly cascade down her cheek.

"I want a love that's worth it."

"And you will find one. Maybe with Jack, or maybe with someone else. Your coming out ball is approaching…"

"Oh yes," Rose smiled, doing so in hopes of eradicating the sadness from her face. "I honestly am looking forward to it."

"Don't rush things, alright? When it happens, you'll know. And maybe your parents won't approve. But either way, that shouldn't matter. What should matter is that you love the man, whoever he is. Everything else is…" her voice trailed off as she searched for the perfect word. "Detail."

"In the meantime," Sybil started again, "Work on forgiving your parents. It's something that has provided me with a much more stable relationship with my own mother and father. They didn't attend my wedding, and it broke my heart. But I know that at the end of the day, Tom loves me, and I am so utterly in love with him. We have a beautiful daughter and she's healthy...someday we'll have a home again. It's much easier to be happy in life when the life you have is your own. And if you married Mr. Ross, I'd venture to say that life would most certainly not be your own and I do not want that for you."

Rose nodded and looked up. "Me neither."

"I will say, you're much braver than I ever was. The most I ever did was wear a frock with jupe-culottes."

Rose's eyes widened. "What on earth is that?"

"Pants," Sybil stated simply.

"That's very daring!" Rose admitted. "Though, not as daring as marrying the chauffeur. I do admire you so for that."

Sybil smiled. "You're sweet, Rose. Far sweeter than anyone gives you credit for."

Rose thought for a moment. "You're not going to tell your mother and father, are you?"

"No, of course not."

"What if I still want to be friends with Jack?"

"Then be friends with Jack. I see absolutely no issue with that. If anyone has a problem with it - send them my way."

Rose giggled. "Would you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" Sybil asked, leaning in. For a moment she thought of Tom, sitting alone in the drawing room. Hopefully Matthew was keeping him entertained in her absence.

"Come to London with me some day."

"Sure," Sybil said quickly. "But what for?"

"There's these new dresses," she began. "Very beaded and in the most gorgeous jewel tones. They're sleeveless and they hit right above the knee…I want to wear one for my coming out ball."

Though Sybil was far removed from this life, she instantly found herself thinking of her own coming out ball and all of the other cotillions she had attended. The required dress was extremely particular, and to be presented to the Queen was certainly no laughing matter. But in having these thoughts, it was crucial for Sybil to remind herself that her life was now much different. She had worn pants and she had married the chauffeur and somehow during it all the ground below her refused to ever give way.

Finally, Sybil spoke up: "I think that sounds like a lovely idea, Rose."

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! A new chapter of _Beautiful Collisions_ should be up sometime tonight as well!

x. Elle


End file.
